Johnny clutched his phone, voice tight with guilt.
"Soren… this is everything that happened. I'm really sorry, man. I know I messed up, but… I need your help."
On the other side of the line, Soren rubbed his forehead. Of all the ways this situation could've spiraled, this was the one he hadn't seen coming.
Mephisto's ritual was nearly at its peak… meaning Soren couldn't sit this one out anymore.
When the call ended, Soren let out a long, resigned breath.
He hadn't left Everlife for days, not because of laziness, but because he'd been digging deep into the secrets of the San Venganza Contract.
Bit by bit, its mysteries had unfolded. Now he could trace Mephisto's signature, follow his soul-breath all the way to the abyssal plane. One push of energy, and he could open a channel straight to the source.
But rushing in blind would be suicide. The Abyss wasn't Earth, not even close. Before stepping into that kind of hellscape, he needed all the power he could get… including the Ghost Rider's.
After making the last of his preparations, Soren vanished.
Johnny was pacing outside the abandoned service road when a ripple of energy folded in on itself and Soren stepped out of nowhere.
"Soren!" Johnny's relief burst out of him. It mixed with shame, this whole disaster had started because he slipped up.
Nadya stared at the newcomer, stunned. She'd heard Johnny mention him, but witnessing Soren literally appear was something else entirely.
"Follow me," Soren said simply. No theatrics. Just cold purpose. He wanted this finished and Mephisto dealt with once and for all.
At Nadya's insistence, Soren took her too.
The demon lord had killed countless people, manipulated countless families, if Nadya wanted to stand by her son now, Soren wasn't going to stop her.
Night spilled across the sky as they approached the ritual grounds, a remote corner of Turkey, drenched in cold air and whispering winds. The moment Soren saw the compound, his eyebrow arched.
Dozens of armed mercenaries patrolled the perimeter, sweeping with military precision. There were snipers on the cliffs, assassins in the shadows, and guards stationed at every possible entry point.
Soren let out a quiet, amused exhale.
"Really, Mephisto? This is the best you had left?"
The demon lord was clearly hurting.
Normally he'd summon grotesque horrors or hellspawn. But stripped of power, all he could muster were… people. Fragile, desperate believers who mistaken his scraps of magic for divine authority.
These zealots saw Soren stride openly into the kill zone, flanked by Johnny and Nadya and immediately obeyed Mephisto's standing orders.
Gunfire exploded across the night.
But the moment the bullets reached striking distance of Soren, they froze in place… hundreds of them, hanging in the air like a deadly constellation.
Magnetic force rippled around Soren's hand.
Then he turned his wrist.
The bullets spun in a sharp wave, straight back at the shooters.
Screams tore through the compound as the zealots were dropped by their own gunfire. Bodies fell, weapons clattered, and the courtyard became eerily still.
"Leaving them alive would only strengthen Mephisto's influence," he said quietly, stepping over the fallen. "Faith like theirs… hungry, feeds demons."
Soren didn't spare a single glance at the bodies littering the ground. The metallic stink of blood thickened the air, but he walked through it as if it were nothing more than morning fog.
His boots echoed against the stone as he strode straight toward the ritual altar, utterly unfazed.
Anyone who rushed out to block their way… cultists, guards, desperate stragglers, fell in an instant. Soren struck them down with efficient brutality that left Nadya frozen in shock behind him.
Even Johnny, who was used to violence and hellfire…
Soren was terrifying.
Johnny couldn't help comparing their power. Even if he transformed now, fire of hell blazing, chains burning, the Penance Stare ready to judge… Johnny wasn't sure any of it would matter.
Meanwhile, inside the fortress…
The gunfire outside cracked through the halls like thunder. Mephisto stiffened. He recognized that aura instantly… Ghost Rider. And that meant things were spiralling out of control faster than he planned.
He wasn't unprepared.
Before the ritual began, Mephisto poured every last scrap of power his weakened avatar still possessed into Carrigan. He forced a contract on him, binding Carrigan as his knight.
Corrosion.
A sick, unnatural force that carried decay in its touch. Anything living or dead that Carrigan laid a hand on would rot away into nothing… flesh, metal, stone, even spirit.
And the corruption didn't stop at his hands, Carrigan could warp an entire area into a corrosive domain, a suffocating darkness where everything slowly rotted under his will. Perfect for ambush. Perfect for slaughter.
"Carrigan," Mephisto rasped, his voice trembling as cracks spread across his collapsing form, "the ritual must not be interrupted."
"Hold them back. When my child is reborn, I'll grant you more power than you can imagine."
The transformation finished ripping through Carrigan.
His hair drained to pure white. His skin peeled and withered in places, giving him the look of a corpse that refused to die. But his eyes… his eyes were alive with delight.
He liked this power.
"Don't worry," Carrigan said, flexing his decayed fingers as black vapors curled around him. "I've been waiting to try this out."
And with a blur of motion, he vanished down the corridors toward the gunfire, eager to test his new strength on Ghost Rider.
The fear that had haunted him earlier was gone.
Now he wanted nothing more than to make the Rider suffer.